


You'll Be Okay

by startrekkingaroundasgard



Series: Bucky Barnes Bingo Round 2 [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Blood, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:13:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26580436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startrekkingaroundasgard/pseuds/startrekkingaroundasgard
Summary: After being rescued from a year long captivity, the reader returns to the Compound but feels lost and out of place in their home. One night, they tear their stitches and Bucky is there to take care of them.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Series: Bucky Barnes Bingo Round 2 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1919305
Comments: 2
Kudos: 51





	You'll Be Okay

You padded silently through the Compound, the marble floors cold and unyielding beneath your bare feet. So different to the cell in which you’d been kept, where the ground was rough, the uneven rocks and bricks sharp enough to tear your skin with each timid step. Eighteen days you’d been back in here with your team, your family, and yet as you walked the familiar corridors you felt a stranger, out of touch, an intruder in your own home.

You winced at the sound of your own gentle footsteps and shifted onto the balls of your feet in the hope of making less noise. Logically, you knew you wouldn’t wake the rest of your team either way – those that bothered sleeping, at least – but you couldn’t shake the fear of how they might strike out if you actually did disturb their rest.

Turning down another corridor, you drew your jacket tighter around you, pulling the stitches on your side in the process. It should have hurt. You’d torn enough stitches to know that it should have hurt like a bitch. But, as you continued down the corridor, you didn’t feel anything. Not the tight pinch, not the burning pain, not even the warmth of your blood as it trickled down your leg.

The Compound was colder than you recalled, a distinct chill creeping up your spine. You felt the eyes on the back of your neck, burning into your soul from somewhere in the dark. Too little, too late, you jumped to the opposite side of the hallway but his hand was already around your wrist.

“Don’t touch me!”

He pulled you back against him, trapped in the vice of his arms. “Hey, hey. It’s me. You’re alright.”

You crossed your arms and slammed them down, tearing free from the shadow’s grip. A sharp dizziness hit as you turned to flee. The ground rippled beneath your feet, wave after wave in an increasingly destabilising motion. Against sense, you stumbled on but each step left you fighting harder to maintain consciousness. It was only out of spite that you pushed the darkness away, terrified to face the cold emptiness and risk waking up back in the cell you’d called home for almost a year.

Cold fingers curled around your wrist and tugged you back into the shadows. Your knees gave out and you collapsed into the solid mass of his chest. You kicked and scratched, a frantic, useless attempt to claw yourself free. Panic set in like a desperate knife to your heart, your screams barely more than hoarse whispers. “Get off me! Let me go!”

“I won’t hurt you, Y/N”

That was a harsh trick. A cruel, cruel trick indeed, stealing his voice and turning it against you. A sob burst from your chest and your fragile walls crumbled, along with what little resistance remained. “Please let go of me,” you begged. “I’ll do whatever you say. I’ll comply.”

“Oh, darling, no.” He turned you around in his arms, still baring all of your weight, and touched your cheek. Despite the sheer terror creeping up your spine, you turned into the touch, finding a familiarity there. The man smiled shakily, his relief outshining concern for a brief moment. “That’s it. You know who am I. It’s me. I won’t ever hurt you.”

Through the shadows, his features began to take form and your recognition sparked. He was right. There was no trick. Not even they had the technology to mimic his subtle smile and his eyes, those beautiful eyes like diamonds in the night. This was the man you trusted with your life. The man you loved. “ _Bucky._ ”

“That’s me,” he said softly. The metal plates of his arm clicked beneath you, adjusting to the dead weight of your body as Bucky set you down carefully on the ground. He propped you up against the wall and knelt down in front of you, the moonlight reflecting in his penetrating gaze. “You’re bleeding.”

“Oh. Yeah. I tore my stitches.”

“Are you in pain?”

You shook your head, panic spiking once more. “I can’t feel anything. What did they do to me, Buck?”

His hand on your shoulder kept you straight against the wall, stopped you from bending over to check the wound yourself. Bucky was still smiling tightly but you could sense his anxiety almost as clearly as your own. “Don’t worry. Just stay with me. FRIDAY, get Cho _now._ ”

“Not going anywhere,” you muttered, burying your head in his shoulder as he swooped you up and held you firm against his chest. Vaguely aware of the stickiness of your blood on his t-shirt, you closed your eyes and focused on the slow beat of his heart. “I’m tired.”

Bucky pressed a kiss to the crown of your skull, his fingers trembling against your skin. He covered your wound with his metal hand but you didn’t even register the change in pressure. “Try and stay awake a little bit longer, Y/N. We’re almost at the infirmary.”

The lights flickered to life above you, so bright that they brought tears to your eyes. You turned even further into Bucky’s chest, grip curled tightly into his shirt as you counted the steps through the Compound. Your mental map of the base was clear enough to know that you were absolutely nowhere near the medical wing. It was practically the other side of the Compound.

“How bad is it?” You cut him off before he could answer and pleaded, “Tell me the truth.”

“It’s not good. You’ve lost a lot of blood and you’re burning up.”

In fact, you felt freezing cold but that only increased your concern. “I’m scared, Bucky.”

“So am I,” he admitted. “But we’ve made it through worse than this, haven’t we? You are so strong, darling. You’re going to be okay. You have to be.”

His voice swirled around you, sounding more distant with each passing second. It didn’t matter how hard you focused on the deep melodic notes, tuned out the heavy thumping of your heart in your ears and the wicked whispers in the back of your mind that taunted the end. Your grip on his shirt faltered as the shadows grew closer, the ice spreading through your veins. The last thing you heard was his shout for Dr. Cho before you slipped into unconsciousness.


End file.
